


Boyfriend Material

by renecdote



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: (it's made from boyfriend material), Established Relationship, Fluff, Kon's jacket, M/M, Platonic Bed Sharing, Pre-Relationship, cuddling for warmth, just two dudes chillin' in a sleeping bag zero feet apart because Bart stole the other one, this one has the best of both worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: “You looked cold,” Kon says.“I’m fine,” Tim replies reflexively, but his fingers curl around the edge of the material that hangs over his collar bone.The one where Tim and Kon both love Kon's jacket.





	Boyfriend Material

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started as an ode to Kon's jacket and became, well, an ode to Kon's jacket ft ridiculously in love boys.

A sudden weight over his shoulders startles Tim from the doze he’d fallen into. He straightens, blinking the campfire back into focus, and lifts a hand up to check what was just draped over him. His fingers brush over leather, warm and smooth from wear, smelling like smoke and a bit like sweat and… something else, something he can’t put his finger on.

“You looked cold,” Kon says.

“I’m fine,” Tim replies reflexively, but his fingers curl around the edge of the material that hangs over his collar bone. A gust of wind gets between the leather and his t-shirt and he shivers, pulls the jacket tighter.

Bart is stretched out on his stomach on the other side of the campfire, wrapped in one- no, two of the sleeping bags they brought. One of them is forest green and Tim frowns; that’s  _ his _ sleeping bag. The fire is dying down to glowing embers now, only a few small flames licking at one last piece of wood. It gives off little heat and Tim finds himself leaning toward the half-Kryptonian furnace beside him.

Stars paint the inky black sky with a thousand glittering lights and Tim tips his head back to study them. He remembers a warmer night, sitting on the roof of Wayne Manor, Bruce pointing out constellations, Dick telling stories about the circus. This is a different kind of nice night, the kind where his skin tingles with the buzz of spending time with friends and eating too many marshmallows.

“We’re going to have to sleep together.”

Tim whips his head around to stare at Kon. “ _ What? _ ” he chokes.

“Bart stole your sleeping bag,” Kon says. He pokes at the dying fire with a stick. “And I don’t want Batman to flay me if you catch a cold so…”

“Oh.” Tim chews on the inside of his cheek. Kon just gave him his jacket because he’s scared of Batman? He quashes the ridiculous swell of disappointment that thought brings. He’d thought… No. Tim quashes that thought as well. Conner is his friend, friends give friends jackets when they’re cold. 

Kon nudges him. “That a problem, dude? I guess you could just have my sleeping bag, if you want. The cold doesn’t really bother me anyway, super genes and all.”

“No!” Tim blurts out, then blushes vibrant pink to the tips of his ears. He shakes his head and tries again, “I mean, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your sleeping bag.”

“Okay.”

Kon unrolls his sleeping bag and shakes it out while Tim watches. Looking at it spread out he becomes acutely aware of the fact that it’s only designed for one person. A large person, sure, because it’s a relic of Clark’s, but even though Tim is small, Kon is certainly not.

_ Are you sure we’ll both fit? _ he opens his mouth to ask, then bites his lip and swallows the question back. Kon will just think he’s hesitant and doesn’t want to share the sleeping bag even though it’s a legitimate concern. Then he’ll insist Tim take the sleeping bag and sleep without any covering, and Tim will lie awake all night feeling guilty. That’s a lose-lose situation. 

Kon steps back to admire his handiwork then grins at Tim, gesturing to the sleeping bag with an elaborate bow. “After you.”

_ Go on _ , one part of Tim’s brain says.  _ Abort! _ insists the other. Tim hugs Kon’s jacket around himself and looks back at the fire. “I’m going to sit up a bit longer,” he says, fingers playing with the jacket zipper. It occurs to him that he’s never seen Kon wear the jacket zipped up. His hand twitches, a jerky motion toward the sleeping bag, and he tries to smile as he says, “You go ahead.”

Kon frowns at him. “You were falling asleep a second ago, dude.”

“Well now I’m awake.”

“Okay.” Kon sits back down beside him. “Well so am I.”

They sit in silence for several minutes. Tim is acutely aware of the few inches between them, even more acutely aware that there’ll be no inches between them as soon as they lie down. 

Because Tim is a coward, it is Kon who breaks the silence again. “Dude, just put it on properly.” And then hands are grabbing the jacket and sliding his arms into the sleeves. “Your shivering is making  _ me _ cold.”

“Thanks,” Tim mutters, curling his fingers so the jacket hangs completely over his hands. It doesn’t quite stop his shivering, the jacket is too loose on his smaller frame to really trap his body heat in, but it helps a bit. Although, not as much as cuddling with a half-human space heater would...

He doesn’t realise he’s dozing off again until there’s a hand on his shoulder and he blinks to find Kon’s face much closer than it had been a moment ago. “Will you please go to bed now?” Kon asks, sounding exasperated. “If you fall asleep and fall into the fire we’ll never be allowed to go camping again.”

Tim huffs and gives in. He crawls inside the sleeping bag, tucking his limbs close to his body and squeezing as far over as he can. His elbow still ends up jabbing into Kon’s ribs. “Sorry,” he mutters, shifting and wriggling. But Kon is also shifting and wriggling so it doesn’t really work. They just end up poking and bumping and muttering “ow” and “sorry” for several uncomfortable minutes. 

Eventually, Kon gives a frustrated sigh and drapes an arm over Tim’s waist. “Is this okay?” he asks and Tim tries not to give away that his breath tickles his ear.

“It’s fine,” he says, hardly daring to breathe. Kon’s chest is a wall of warmth against his back, soaking through leather and cotton and- Tim twitches.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Tim says. A beat. “I’m still wearing your jacket.”

He can’t tell for sure, but he’d bet Kon just rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, Rob, just got to sleep.” He yawns. “S long as you don’t take off with it tomorrow.”

Tim snorts. “I wouldn’t, it’s not really my style.”

They’re both tired and close to sleep, Tim figures that must be the only reason Kon says, “Nah, I think you look good in it.” 

—

Kon is only half-awake, dozing to daytime television with his head tipped back, when a quiet jangling sound reaches his ears. He drops one hand over the side of the couch, expecting Krypto to nudge it with his cold nose and demand pats, but there’s no dog. The jangling sound comes closer. Curious, Kon opens his eyes.

“Hey there, sleepy head,” Tim says with a grin. He leans over to kiss Kon, bringing the jangling sound with him.

“Mm,” Kon mumbles against his boyfriend’s lips, reaching up to tug Tim closer, hands sliding over leather, soft and worn from wear, smelling like moth balls and a bit like Tim’s cologne and… something else, something that he can’t quite put his finger on.

Tim loops his arms around Kon’s neck and lets himself be pulled down, straddling Kon’s lap. His fingers scratch at the hair on the nape of Kon’s neck, unimpeded by too-long sleeves. The jacket hugs his shoulders, hanging open around his tight t-shirt, just loose enough that Kon can slip his hands beneath the leather to rest on Tim’s waist. 

“Look what I found in the back of your closet,” Tim says with a grin. “It fits properly now.”

“Looks good,” Kon agrees between the kisses he’s trailing down his boyfriend’s neck. He tugs at the material. “Now take if off.”

(The old leather jacket, Kon decides later, looks just as good strewn across the floor with the rest of their clothing.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are love, or come yell about TimKon with me on tumblr [here](http://tantalum-cobalt.tumblr.com).


End file.
